


Tristram

by Kalesklok



Series: Eldritch Campaign [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Adventure, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Eldritch, Gen, Horror, Tentacles, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalesklok/pseuds/Kalesklok
Summary: This is my first D&D campaign, and my first attempt writing/story telling. I had such a blast playing D&D and wanted so badly to share my experience, hoping others would enjoy it as well. This is a first person POV through my character who starts as a level 1 cleric, as she struggles to survive the relentless onslaught of Eldritch horrors. It helps if you have some background on Magic the Gathering, (Plane of Theros in particular) and the mechanics of D&D, however I wrote this so that anyone can understand and enjoy it. Please note that the outcomes of decisions, attacks, checks, etc., are all due to the roll of the die. This series will certainly have that random element factored in where anything can happen. I really hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did!
Series: Eldritch Campaign [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931275
Kudos: 2





	Tristram

Warm rays radiate through stained glass, illuminating an ivory church. The aisles are rowed with towering columns, and elaborate windows climb the walls to a ribbed vaulted ceiling. A light chatter can be heard among monks, priests and church goers who occupy the halls, shuffling about in preparation. I’m seated just outside the entrance on a white stone bench, my head held low. The air remains calm and peaceful, and I find myself drifting off into a pleasant daydream.

Footsteps approach behind me, and come to a sudden halt at my side. “Excuse me, miss?” Startled awake from my thoughts, I jump in my seat. “The ceremony will begin shortly. Do you wish to join us this afternoon?” I turn my head, glancing at the figure standing beside me. It’s an elderly man, dressed in flowing white robes bearing a sun crest. He smiles gently, but his expression immediately shifts to shock upon perceiving my face.

My appearance alarms him as he hesitantly takes a step back. An expression I’ve grown accustomed to, I can’t blame him. My skin is ashen and pale, a contrasting blackness surrounding deep maroon eyes. Though I am hooded, the fabric does little to conceal my large horns which curl around my ears and protrude passed my cheeks. I must look like some demon dwelling around his church.

My tail curls into a nervous coil, and I bolt passed the man. The stairs leading down from the church and into the city are numerous, but I descend rather quickly. The man remained in place, puzzled. “What is a Tiefling doing here?”

As I make my way down the steps, I pause a moment and turn around. It doesn’t appear that I’m being pursued, and the elderly man is lost in a busy crowd. I gaze upwards at the monumental church, admiring the grand architecture. The Church of Heliod stands as a mountain among pebbles, an alluring sight. Spires and pinnacles extend their reach, piercing through the clouds. The pristine ivory structure shimmers beneath the sunlight, adorned by streams of gold that decorate the arches and pillars. Sun crested banners flow freely in the light summer breeze.

Never in my life had I seen a structure so grand, I just had to take a moment to steal this memory. It is Tristram’s library I came to visit, and I proceed to walk down the stairs.

I arrive at a busy plaza, commotion bustling in every corner. A variety of scents linger in the air as people pass me by. Their movements strike me as odd, however. It’s almost as if everyone is walking in sync, marching the same path. They almost look tranced as they begin making their way towards the church.

Catching my eye, two guards are dragging someone into a slightly darker alleyway leading towards the back streets. The crowd doesn’t seem to notice. With my head held low, I carefully navigate my way through the busy crowd and into the narrow passage, following the guards.

Empty crates and bottles litter the area, remnants of traveling shops. Lenin and clothing dangle from hanging lines above, casting soft shadows. I can hear the shuffling and staggered footsteps creep down the alley. They haven’t gone far. Focused on their forms, I accidentally bump a rusted tin can that clatters down and bounces off the stone pathways. In a panic, I press myself against the wall, trying to compress my form behind the crates.

“Who’s there!?” The figures come to an immediate stop, my appearance to them is obvious. In a sigh of embarrassment, I lift myself off the wall and face them. Upon better inspection, I notice that these two men are wearing a higher degree of armor, presumably members of the royal guard. They also bear a golden sun crest woven into their capes.

“Why aren’t you following the rest?” The guard on the left addresses me impatiently, and I’m thrown off by the question. Was I supposed to? I haven’t been in public for so long, I’m not sure what exactly is normal. But.. that crowd certainly didn’t look right.

“Well? Can’t you speak?” His patience is running low. “I, u-um...” I can only manage a nervous stutter. It’s been so long since I’ve spoken, I’m almost startled by the sound of my own voice. “.. You’re a Tiefling, aren’t you?” The silence is broken by the guard on the right. Sensing confrontation, I grip my staff as fear wells up inside of me.

In the distance, a bell tolls, alerting all in the city of Tristram. The sound seemingly startles the guards as they look behind them, then at each other. The guard on the left shakes his head. “She’s not worth it.” They drop the body and abandon the area, racing towards the bell’s chimes. I was so caught up by the confrontation, I had nearly forgotten about the body. Was he a prisoner, did they kill him?

Before I can begin to collect my thoughts, a soft cough shakes the body. He’s still alive. I quickly rush to his side and examine him. I can tell by his clothes that he’s not from around here, possibly a traveler. His arm is etched with inscriptions I’ve never seen before. Did he... carve these in himself? Tugging my attention from the inscriptions is deep stab wound in his stomach. “T-tiefling..” The man sputters. He looks a bit surprised by my appearance, but not afraid. It must be painful for him to talk.

“I can heal you..” I muster shyly as I place my hands over his wound. He grips my hands gently in response, and shakes his head. “Please, you mustn’t. You would only prolong it.” I blink, and re-examine the wound. The blood looks thick and black. The cut itself is unusual. What kind of weapon did this? The man hacks and coughs up the same black blood, drizzling down his chin.

“Please listen. The gods.. there’s something wrong. It’s as if something is corrupting them.” His words gurgle in his throat as he speaks. I listen intently, his time is very limited. “There’s a journal, hidden in the library. The fifth floor, it-” He coughs and wheezes a few times before regaining his composure. “B-back shelf, on the left.. you will find it. You must.” I shift awkwardly upon the request. “Okay.. I’ll find it.” Relief washes across his face to my reply.

His unsteady hands quiver into his pocket and reaches for two small vials. “Here. These.. will serve you better than myself.” He places the vials in my hands. They’re minor healing potions. His expression softens as I thank him, but he has exhausted all of his energy. The light in his eyes fade, and his body goes limp.

I feel a slight tug of guilt in my chest, having been unable to save him. His wound was irreparable and beyond my magical capability, so I try to shake the feeling. I’d hate to leave him here, but I need to go before someone sees me. There’s no doubt they’d pin a murder on me.

I rise to my feet and head towards the library. It’s another one of Tristram’s prized locations, so naturally the building would scale above the others. It’s easy to spot, even at a distance. The Church of Heliod is visible as well, hulking over the entire city. The library shrinks in comparison.

As I navigate through the back alleys, I can hear the traveler’s words echoing in my head. The gods are corrupt. I came to the City of Tristram to investigate a rumor, particularly of devout followers acting strangely. Bizarre ongoings. I’ve never heard anything of corrupted gods before, that one is new. It doesn’t make sense, the gods are benevolent beings who walk among men and offer their guidance and wisdom. That can’t be true. Still, there’s a sinking pit in my stomach that tells me something is amiss..

I step into another open plaza, though it is eerily quiet. The beautiful space is left unoccupied, and only the fountains that decorate the library entrance offer a gentle white noise. Nearby homes and markets are empty, and the library entrance is unguarded. “I suppose now is a better time than any..” Out in the open, I scale the stairs and approach the library doors. The large frames are unlocked, and I’m able to walk right in.

The deafening silence extends into the library. No shuffling of pages, no pens etching away, no footsteps. A sense of uneasiness shakes my core. Tristram is a large city, capital of the Light Domain. It should be bustling with people everywhere. The entire city couldn’t have gathered in that crowd heading towards the church.. right? Heliod, the god who rules the Domain of Light resides there. However, the gods do not force or demand worship, so it’s unlikely that the entire city of Tristram has been lulled there for that reason.

I push the thought to the back of my mind as I advance to higher floors. Each floor is just as massive and stocked as the last, endless shelves hoarded with carefully aligned books. This library is very well maintained and organized.

The air grows heavy as I take several steps into the fifth and final floor. The first thing I can make out are mad scribbles, etched.. everywhere. On the walls, floors, and papers that scatter across the floor reads “IT’S TIME.” The entire floor is littered with fallen shelves and books. I can’t even begin to imagine what took place here.

Following the traveler’s instructions, I locate a shelf towards the back and on the left. Of course, it’s the one remaining shelf still standing. Scrolls line the shelves neatly, some of them out of place. The corner of a small, black leather book peeks out from underneath a scroll. I gently tug on the corner to slide the book free, but the scrolls come rolling down upon the disturbance. Like a domino effect, a mixture of scrolls and books tumble, colliding against the wooden planks. I’m embarrassed to have made such a loud ruckus, but it’s not like anyone was around to hear it. 

As if on queue, footsteps fast approach from the stairs and I quickly store the journal in my bag. My mind races as I reach for my staff, clutching it tightly in both hands. Two figures appear at the floor entrance, swords in hand. “You again? What are you doing in here!?” I recognize them. They’re the same guards from the back alleyways earlier. “You’re coming with us.”

They both march towards me. I’ve been shunned my whole life, but I could never bring myself to hurt others. However, this may be a fight I can’t walk away from. I target the guard closing in on me, and swing my staff in a quick and fluent motion. Just as the guard lunged forward to seize me, my staff collides with his temple with a rattling shake. I hear a crack, and realize that my staff had begun to break. For a moment he locks eyes with me, meeting my terrified gaze. He slumps to the floor unconscious.

A shining gleam catches my eye, and I immediately duck down. There’s a sharp “thud” just above my head. The remaining guard had lodged his sword into the shelf behind me. I pivot my staff, crashing into his side. He staggers back, letting go of his lodged sword. With another sweep of my staff, I swing at his legs. He loses his balance and falls to the floor. The crack in my staff widens. “Y-you’re a demon!” The guard is scuttling backwards, trying to distance himself from me. Maybe I can get something out of him in his terrified state. I gather my courage and speak.

“That man you were dragging. Who was he? What did you do to him?” The guard shakes his head. “I don’t have to tell you anything!” I lash my tail against the wooden floor boards, startling him. I speak again, and I cast a cantrip to alter my voice with a low, infernal bellowing that nearly masks my own voice. “What did you do to him!?” The guard cowers, absolutely terrified. “It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me!! It was Heliod!!” The guard is panicked, but he’s telling the truth. “That doesn’t make sense.. Why?” I ask, my voice restored to normal. The guard shakes his head. “I don’t know... I think he was looking for something to overrule the gods. He was brought to Heliod in secret and questioned. Then he..” His face twists in pain as he recalls what he had seen. “... He just gutted him, right there. I’ve never seen Heliod so.. so...” He turns his head and looks me in the eyes. “That’s all I know of him, I swear! After that, Heliod ordered us to take him to-“

I hear a tear of metal and flesh as the guard falls silent, an expression of shock washes over his face. Blood oozes from the corner of his mouth, and he collapses on his side. There’s a knife protruding from his back. I look up, and a group of Heliod’s followers pour in from below. They appear to be in some sort of trance. Smiling with wicked grins on their faces, they slowly make their way towards me. Empty, soulless eyes peer into mine. Overwhelmed by their numbers, I need to make an escape. The staircase is blocked, and I’m too high up to dive through a window.

My mind is racing, heart beating frantically. As I back into a corner, the area begins to quake violently. Windows shatter as the walls and ceiling begin to crumble. The structure is torn from the floor boards, lifting into the air. Light floods in through an open sky as a strong gust of wind whisks away loose papers and debris. The entire wall has been torn away, crashing into a nearby building. I hardly notice, as a hulking, terrifying presence obstructs my view.

I am face to face with Heliod, God of the Domain of Light. My heart drops as I’m overcome with sheer terror. His eyes are sunken, replaced with a fathomless void of total blackness. His mouth agape, a flesh-like lattice tangled in the corners of the outstretched places. His body is contorted in unnatural ways as his skin slithers into fleshy tendrils. A massive tentacle sways in place of what should be his left arm. His brown hair flows unnaturally, as if underwater.

The nightmarish Heliod floats ever closer, his face contorting and twitching. Behind me, I hear a series of thuds. All of Heliod’s followers have collapsed for some reason. Turning back to Heliod, half of his face appears.. normal. A single golden eye gazes directly into mine. His motions seem staggered and pained, as if he’s struggling to fight against his own body. “Go...” Did he just speak to me? “Seek the Domain of Knowledge. You mUsT.. hUrRy...” His voice begins to contort into a shriek, golden eye fading to black. “RuNnN!!”

I don’t even have to think. I turn quickly on my heels and dart straight for the stairs, leaping over the followers who have begun stirring back to life. Behind me, a massive tentacle hurls itself into the walls, lashing out frantically. Searching. Blood rushes madly through my veins, every fiber of my being screaming to get away. Everything is a blur to me. Stairs upon stairs, frantic breaths. Before I know it, I’m sprinting through the front doors of the library.

The city of Tristram has risen back to life, all around. Screaming, laughter, and unknown chanting echo across broken buildings. I can hear them rushing in from multiple directions behind me. Some fleeing, others chasing. There was a shriek of terror, followed by a guttural splat behind a complex I had just passed. Has the entire city lost themselves?

Heliod is still ripping apart entire floors of the library, searching for me. Some of the cultists have been crushed by the search, or even flung out by his whipping tendrils. Heliod’s face has warped completely now, evidence of the once god has vanished. He lacks a face, and roars and shrills with a wide, rounded mouth rowed with teeth. I sprint through the plaza while his head is submerged within the library walls and slip back into the narrow alleyways. I can still hear the maddening chaos of.. People, if they even are people anymore. Their voices shriek louder, they’re closing in on me. I’ve taken many turns and leapt over small obstacles that block the way of making my escape.

Finally, the towering city walls grow closer. The main gates that lead into the city are open, to my surprise. I take the opportunity and run straight for the gates. The moment I emerge into the street, a dark, hooded figure raises a sickle, ready to strike at any moment. “It is time for the return of the Outer Gods!” He shouts as he rears back, prepared to lunge forward. I pull the shield from my back and raise it, bracing for impact. But.. Nothing comes. I peer out from behind my shield. The figure has lowered his weapon, and he appears to be eying the holy symbol pressed into my shield. “Well.. Go along, then!”

What? He’s letting me go, just like that? I pace back into a run, cautiously passing the hooded figure. He does not pursue, and watches me escape the City of Tristram. Why did he let me pass? I suspect it’s the holy symbol on my shield that caught his eye. It is the symbol of Emeria, the God of Knowledge. The god I have devoted myself to.

The symbol is of an unusual, diamond shape with a smaller opening towards the middle. A pair of wings sprout from its sides and long, slim appendages curl beneath it. Emeria is seen by her followers as an angelic presence, a wise and powerful being. Perhaps these stirrings in Tristram have drawn her attention, and she has blessed me with an escape.

I keep running as I’m still not safe. I’m not far away enough from that.. Thing. I glance over my shoulder. Heliod is tearing down the great city, howling a distant piercing wail. A mob of crazed citizens are following my trail, flailing about wildly. Some of them are even covered in blood. No, not blood... It’s the same black ichor that oozed out of the traveler’s stab wound. Their skin is squirming, lined with small, whipping tendrils in several places. I can’t keep running forever. To my right flank, a figure on a horse gallops towards my direction. Great, they can ride horses too? They gallop just ahead of me, then slow down to my pace. The figure reaches out a hand to me. “Grab on!”

I pause a moment, but I reach for the stranger’s hand. We lock arms and he pulls me up, seating me behind him. The man bears the crest of Heliod on his cape, and wears a higher degree of armor. Oh no.. I think I know him. The Royal Guard from the alleyway, and again in the library.

“Ah.. Don’t worry about that.” He mutters, almost as if he knew what I were thinking. “I’m not with him anymore. How could I, after he..” His head dips low in recollection. “... Hey, uh.. Thanks for not killing me back there. You could have, but you didn’t.” I remember now. He was the guard I knocked unconscious, just before Heliod appeared. The other guard was killed by his followers, when he had told me too much. Still, what a strange thing to thank me for.

“How did you.. make it out?” I ask. The guard rubbed his chin. “Hmm.. Dumb luck, I suppose. I woke up as the floor beneath me crumbled, and I fell through. Ohhh, but right before I caught a glimpse of that monster!” I feel him shudder. “I fell through several floors, sliding off one plank and onto the next. And the only thing I lost was my helmet!” He chuckles. “After that, I only had a few floors to take the stairs.”

I nod silently. So much has happened, I’m a bit at a loss for words. It’s a miracle that either of us is alive. “Um, name’s Richard, by the way.” That’s an unusual name. I glance up at him, nodding again. It’s so hard for me to speak. My mind is swirling with so many questions. “Ah, I get it, I get it.” He says. “You went though a lot back there. Well, we both did. I understand if you don’t want to talk, tiefling.” My eyes begin to water. “Thanks..” is all I can muster.

The remainder of the ride is silent, the both of us trying to take in the horrors that unfolded. The black journal weighs heavily in my bag, holding maybe some explanation for all of this. I want to read it, but I need to make sure we are safe first. I have to keep my guard up.

The sun falls behind us, setting over what was once Tristram. We arrive in the outskirts of a small town. The buildings look a little worn down, though the place is bustling with casual life, untouched by the chaos we had escaped from. Richard and I dismount his horse. He looks at me awkwardly. “I think I’m gonna have myself a drink after that ordeal. Care to join?” I shake my head. “No thank you, I don’t drink.” Richard nods. “Right then. Well here, take this.” He shuffles around for his wallet and hands me ten gold pieces. “There’s an inn right over there. You can get yourself a room and rest up a bit.” My eyes widen. It may seem trivial to most, but no one has treated me this kindly before. “Th-thank you..” Richard shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Well, see ya round.” He waves, then heads towards the tavern nearby.

I make my way towards the inn and step inside. The place looks rundown and neglected. Plain and wooden, rot festers in several areas. Looks like no one bothered to clean out the many spider webs, either. It’s a complete contrast from Tristram’s smooth, white stoned structures.

“Welcome!” The innkeeper greets me from behind the counter. Her curly red hair bobs as she smiles and lightly bounces in place. She waves her plump arm in circles, encouraging me to come in. “Would you like a room to stay in tonight, lass?” She doesn’t look at all phased by my appearance. A lot of different folk must stay here. “Yes, please.” I reply. “Right as rain! That’ll be ten gold, please~” I take a step back. “Ten gold!? For one night?” And in a place like this? She must be out of her mind. A large, balding man with the same curly red hair on the sides walks in behind her. “There a problem?” He bellows. The innkeeper laughs. “Nooo, nooo, of course not!” She jerks her head towards me. “... Ain’t that right?” With a defeated sigh, I shake my head and hand over the gold. I’m much too terrified to sleep outside tonight. “Lovely!~ Your room will be upstairs, last door on the left. Thank you!”

I head towards my room without saying anything back to the couple. I’m just too tired. I turn the old, splintered knob to my room, into a small space with two beds and a crooked night stand. A small figure sitting on one of the beds beams at me with excitement. “Hello there! Oh, you must be my roommate! I’m Tavor, a halfling! Ohhh, are you a tiefling!? Lemme see your horns! Can I touch them?” Her high pitched voice nearly gives me a headache. “A roommate..? Maybe I have the wrong room..” Tavor leaps in place on the bed. “No, nonsense! You’re my roommate! People share rooms here all the time!” I wish they would have said something. I’ve socialized enough today, and this halfling has too much energy. I don’t think I can read the journal with her here, either.

“I’m from Tristram, where are you from?” She watches me eagerly, as she tucks several strands of short, brown hair behind her ear. “Tristram..?” I ask. “Yes, Tristram! I was born there. I’ll be heading back tomorrow, in fact!” She stretches her arms as her small feet dangle off the edge of the bed. “Um, Tavor... Tristram, it... it isn’t there anymore.” I don’t know how else to say it. I don’t even really know myself what happened. Tavor’s smile instantly drops from her face, but she grins wildly again. “Haha, what a silly thing to say! What do you mean, not there anymore? Tristram is Tristram! It’s my home!” What do I even tell her? I can’t just let her walk to her death. I tell the truth.

“Listen, um.. I... I just came from there.” Tavor interrupts me. “Yes, yes, isn’t it lovely?” She claps her hands in excitement. “Of course,” I reply. “Tristram is beautiful. But something happened there today. It’s difficult for me to describe. But Heliod... changed. Transformed, or something. He’s become a monster. Everyone there began to attack me, and each other. The whole city is in chaos. I saw Heliod tearing it down, the whole place must be destroyed by now! Look, you can’t go back tomorrow.” Tavor stares at me. Her smile has mostly diminished, as she struggles to retain it. “You’re serious... Aren’t you?” I nod in reply. “I see...” She says, and hops off the bed. She walks towards me, and gestures for my staff. I don’t know where she’s getting at, but I hand it to her. She clutches the staff in her tiny hands.

“I can tell you’re serious, it’s written all over your face.” She goes on. “Thank you for telling me, tiefling. So let me leave you with this.” The staff glows under her palms, and the crack in my staff mends itself shut. She slides her hand down the staff, and a bulbous shape forms at the end. It looks like a flower that hasn’t yet blossomed. It dawns on me that Tavor is a Druid. She hands it back to me. “Wow, I.. thank you..” Tavor smiles again, though it is forced.

“I’m leaving now.” She says. “What, no! You can’t! Listen, if you go, I’m certain you will die! I can’t let you just..!” My protests don’t seem to be getting through to her as she heads for the door. She looks back at me. “I have to go. My family is there... I have to make sure that.. my family is okay!” Tears well up in her large, green eyes. She’s struggling so hard to keep her smile. “Please, I know what I saw! I know you’re concerned, but your family is... your family is probably...” I can’t say it.

Tavor smiles at me, one last time. “Thank you again for telling me. Thank you for caring about my safety. But Tavor can handle herself!” She flexes her small arm, grinning passed her tears. She then leaves the room and shuts the door behind her. I’m left in a heavy silence. I feel for the journal in my bag. Finally, I have the privacy to read its contents. But I can’t. My eyes remain locked on the door, unable to pry them away. I have to go after her. She was a little too much, but I could tell she was kind. She even fixed my staff. I can’t find it in my heart to let her go. Finding my resolve, I leave the room and chase after her. “Oh, where ye goin?” The balding inns keeper flashes a smug grin at me. I stay focused and exit the inn.

Tavor is just outside, still strutting her small legs. “Wait!!” I cry out. She turns and looks at me with her tear filled eyes. There’s no hiding her worry now. “Just let me go! You can’t stop me from going.. I have to see! I have to...”

The tavern doors burst open just next to us. It’s Richard, and he has definitely had too much to drink. “Richard..?” Tavor asks. “Hrm? Mmm.. Ah! *burp* Tavor! Tavooorrr. Hey! How’ve ya been?” Richard drunkenly stumbles towards us. Richard and Tavor, they know each other? Tavor wipes her face and grins. “Tiefling, this is Richard! I know him from Tristram! He’s a great family friend. We go waayyyy back.” Richard chuckles in agreement. Something dawns on Tavor, and her smile fades. “That means... Richard, you came here from Tristram too, right?” She asks. “Actually, Richard here is the one who saved me. We both escaped.” I tell her. “Mmm yeah, Tristrammm’s gone. Izz gone. Can’t believe izz gone, but ‘vryone started changin’ and swingin’...” Richard adds. “Whole place has gone mad! N’ Heliod, I saws him. Looks like a pasta.”

Richard stumbles forward and throws up. A lot. It won’t stop coming, and Tavor and I look away from the nauseating sight. When it sounds like he’s finished, I look back at him. The chunky puddle beneath him sinks into the crevices between the wooden planks. He throws up again. However, the contents begin to change. His vomit turns a darker color as more pours out. Now he’s throwing up puddles of black. Just like the traveler, and the crazed followers, there it is again. That black ichor. My hair stands on end as I am suddenly overwhelmed with dread.

“Tavor, get back. Something isn’t right.” I motion her to step back. “What do you mean?” She asks. “It’s just Richard.. He just had too much to drink, that’s all!” Richard begins so sway and grumble, throat gurgling. His torso begins to convulse sporadically. His arms bend unnaturally, and elongate into large tentacle-like appendages. They are each twice the size of his own body, writhling in a sickening bluish purple display. Whatever happened to Heliod.. It’s happening to him too. The first person to ever show me kindness, who saved me, is gone. Richard’s gone.

I reach for my newly reinforced staff and hold it in front of me. “This is what happened in Tristram, and to Heliod. Tavor, this isn’t him anymore. I’ve seen this.” Tavor nods, she seems to understand. This isn’t the time for second guessing. I grip the staff tightly. I do have several spells equipped, but none of them are helpful in combat. I’m a mere knowledge-seeking Cleric, after all. This staff is probably my best shot at taking him down.

Richard acts swiftly, lunging his left tentacle straight at me. At the same time, his right lashes at Tavor. I parry his arm with the rotating swing of my staff, and Tavor leaps nimbly to the side, dodging his attack. He strikes the floor boards where she once stood, shattering several of them in half.

Using her momentum from the leap, Tavor flings herself towards Richard. She holds her palm open, and a yellow light glows in the center. She clenches her hand around it, and the light bursts into a fiery blade. Swinging upwards at Richard, she lands a searing cut in his torso from his hip to his shoulder. Richard stumbles back from the force, but he doesn’t look at all phased by the attack. Maybe he just doesn’t feel anymore.

Trailing in behind Tavor, I swing my staff into the side of his temple. Back in the library, the impact knocked him out. But here, he still stands, unmoving. He averts his empty gaze towards me. Black streams ooze out of his ear and nostril from the side I struck him on.

With a savage strike, Richard slams a tentacle against my stomach, sending me flying straight into the tavern window. I can feel the wooden shutters crunch against my back.

In a swift and fluent motion, Richard manages a piercing blow with his other tentacle, straight into Tavor’s side. She clenches her jaw, muffling her scream. To my horror, I can only shout her name in a panic. Her eyes meet mine, and she manages a smile. A deep red trickles from the corner of her mouth as she does. “I.. I’m okay!” She assures me, though her soft voice trembles.

Tavor begins her retaliation as she raises her flaming blade, but the wound in her side tears open even more. The conjured flames dissipate from her hand, and she doubles over from the pain.

I clench my teeth from the surge of pain and dislodge myself from the shutters. I have to help her, as she is prone at his feet. Adrenaline surges through me as I lunge myself at him. I need to take out one of his arms, somehow. I draw a dagger from the sheath strapped to my thigh, plunging it into the base of the tentacle. I rip it down, but only manage a small gash. The girth of the alien arm is much too large for my dagger to remove. At least, I think I have his attention as I placed myself between him and Tavor. Good.

With both tentacles waving spasmodically, he ambushes me from both sides. The arm that I had cut whips just over my head, as the wound seems to have effected its trajectory. His other arm points to pierce my stomach, and I rotate my body sideways so that it merely grazes my leather armor.

A flame burts besides me, slicing upwards right into the cut I had made in the tentacle. A stench of searing, fowl meat fills my nostrils as the newly conjured flame blade severs the tentacle from Richard’s body. Tavor remains on the ground panting, supporting herself with her elbow. Incredibly, she still managed to focus her magic despite the pain. The newly severed tentacle thrashes around blindly, then its movements slow to the occasional twitch.

I need to heal Tavor, but my magic is still severely underdeveloped. It’s too risky to attempt in the heat of battle, as I can only restore her health an insignificant amount at a time. If I attempt this now, I would be endangering us both. I would rather myself be in harms way instead of her. Please, just look at me and only me. Let me be the diversion.

I move to strike the center of his chest as the remaining tentacle lashes out reflexively. The thick mass of flesh struck my hand, just before I could land my blow. The force of my swing redirected, I am thrown off balance as I tumble to the ground. My staff clatters just a few feet away from me.

Before I can collect my bearings, I hear the sound of a guttural slush and a faint whimpering. I turn my head. Richard hovers above Tavor, his tentacle arm buried deep into her abdomen. Her tiny hands clutch the tentacle, struggling to keep it from penetrating further. But to no avail, the wound is much too wide. She is nearly torn in half as the arm is almost as thick as her own torso. The flesh at her sides are barely in tact. Her grip loosens, and her arms fall gently beside her.

For a moment, I am frozen. I couldn’t save her. Guilt and rage well up inside of me, and I crawl to reach for my staff. My back is turned to him and I am vulnerable to attack. I don’t care. My emotions run rampant, clouding my judgement.

I hear a bloodied dripping behind me, Richard retracting the tentacle from Tavor’s body. A couple of steps towards my direction, and I can see his shadow looming over me. His tentacle unfolds prepared to strike, drenched in Tavor’s blood. I grit my teeth and brace for impact.

A small glint flashes through the air, catching the tentacle in mid strike. The fleshy mass just misses me, the whipped air from the swing grazing against my cheek. I can perceive a small dagger lodged into the tip of the tentacle. The force of the thrown weapon jerks his body to the side, lowering his head.

Seizing the opportunity, I muster my strength and leap into the air. The staff positioned above my head, I send it crashing down with every ounce of strength I have left. Richard raises his head. And in the briefest of moments, his empty gaze meets mine.

I’m so sorry.

My staff slams into his head. I can feel the crunching of bone through the hilt, as Richard’s neck crooks and gives out. His head sinks in place of his neck, then rolls off his shoulders. It dangles there for a moment. His tentacle ceases its constant swaying and he collapses to the ground. The tentacle shrivels and deteriorates, and his original.. His human arm, remains in its place. The one that Tavor had severed is still motionless on the ground, unchanged from its monstrous form.

Tavor. I rush to her body, preparing a last, desperate attempt to possibly save her. I lay my hands gently on her chest, prepared to channel my magic into her. I can’t. Spare the Dying is a cantrip meant to stabilize, not resurrect. Her body is beyond repair. She’s gone.

I lower my head in defeat, and I noticed that her arm is outstretched. It wasn’t Iike that before. It is aimed towards Richard’s body. The dagger that caught his tentacle from hitting me, came from Tavor. She expended her final breath trying to save me. Her face wears a bloodied but faint, serene grin.

All at once, everything pours out of me. Overwhelmed with grief, I collapse beside her and sob uncontrollably. My breaths become staggered, the air failing to reach my lungs. I’m alive, though it feels undeserving. I wouldn’t even be here without either of them. I hate myself for not being strong enough to repay their kindness to me, and I will never get the chance to.

Footsteps shuffle hesitantly, the townspeople drawn to the commotion. They begin to circle the scene, whispering to each other and pointing. Several people observe through windows and by door frames to maintain their distance. A voice in the crowd calls out.

“A tiefling, I knew it! As soon as a tiefling shows up, those demonic beasts can’t help but lay waste everywhere they go!” The townspeople slowly begin to raise their voices in agreement.

Ahh, there it is. The accusations I have grown ever accustomed to. The reason for my isolation. Normally, I would have no choice but to run. But the bodies that lay before me.. I can’t pull myself away from them. I wipe my face with my sleeve, trying to regain my composure. I lift my head and address the crowd.

“How dare you..” My voice trembles. “You think I am capable enough to create a wound this terrible?” I gesture Tavor’s nearly severed body. The townspeople look back and forth from me to her, possibly searching for a weapon on me large enough to inflict such a wound.

“We were attacked,” I continue as I point a shakey finger towards Richard. “By him. It wasn’t his fault, something happened to him. I-I don’t know what, exactly, but it took him over. He sprouted these horribly long arms. The same thing happened in Tristram, and we escaped. But I don’t know why, or how he... Why him..” I bite my lip, trying desperately to keep myself from breaking down again. “I thought we had escaped. But even here, it still got him...”

Some of the crowd appear sympathetic, regretful of their outburst against my innocence. Their expression shifts to confusion however, as they don’t know what happened in Tristram just a short while ago. I don’t think anyone does, really. Great.

“What’r ye talkin about, long arms? And look at ‘em, he don’t look much different. Other than, missin’ n’ arm.” Someone asks. I gesture towards the large tentacle laying just a few feet away from Richard’s body, without really looking at it. “His other arm.” I reply. I try to explain the best I can of what I saw in Tristram, from the behavior of devout followers to Heliod’s condition.

More whispers and confusion. I think I heard someone mention that the thickness of the tentacle matched the shape torn in Tavor’s body. Well, at least they’re smart enough to put two and two together.

“Well... guess there ain’t nothin’ we can do here. If what you say is true ‘bout Tristram, sounds like we’re all doomed anyway. Might as well have a last drink.” A man says and chuckles nervously, unsure of what to make of the situation. The crowd disperses back into their homes while only a few linger. Though I convinced them of my innocence, many shook their heads in denial over the fate of Tristram. I don’t blame them.

In any case, I am left unbothered. I cut off the smaller end of the tentacle arm and store it in my bag. Maybe I can examine it later and learn more about the mutation or what caused it. The sun had set long ago, and my body grows weary. Despite the setting exhaustion, I buried Richard and Tavor under a lone tree just on the outskirts of the small town. I wish I could have offered them better.

Light stretches just over the horizon, soon followed by the morning sun. I can’t believe I spent the entire night out here. I brush my hand gently against the cool, loose dirt of the freshly dug graves, then say my goodbye. I head back to the inn to rest.

“Oh! Welcome back!” The curly haired innkeeper greets me. “That’ll be ten gold, please!” I stare at her blankly, void of emotion. I can’t even manage an argument. Looks like I’m sleeping outside today. I turn slowly and shuffle my aching body towards the door. “W-wait!” The innkeeper stops me. “You’ve, um.. you’ve had a rough night. Just rest here.” “Thanks..” I mumble quietly, hardly finding the energy to speak. Not that she’s even doing me a favor, charging me ten gold in the first place. I head upstairs and settle into my room.

My belongings fumble to the floor as I lazily shrug them off. I glance over at Tavor’s bed. She should have been there, but I just had to go and say something. I place my staff on her bed, the bulbous flowered end glistening against the rays that seep in from the blinds. It’s all I have of her. I lie down in my own bed, letting the reality of the day settle in. A deep breath escapes me. The black journal seems to pulse ominously from my bag, beckoning. It will have to wait. My vision goes dark and I drift into a deep sleep.


End file.
